


Amor fati (the story of the sun and her moon)

by yams



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, but no angst, for the heathens with heart, poor cosmic fluff based on your overactive angstmongering minds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 17:44:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6576217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yams/pseuds/yams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Such is the tale of these enervated spirits. They were never to touch, sentenced only to a life of gazing, yet through millennia—millions of years and millions of stars—they continued their dance. Asymptotes in nature, edging closer with each incarnation of their earthly ties. Thrust together in passion, but eclipsed by gravity and fate. In every instance, it was never their time.</p>
<p>Never until Carmilla and Laura.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amor fati (the story of the sun and her moon)

**Author's Note:**

> A small one-shot, I suppose. If you want some sounds to vibe with, Elektrik People's 'Stargazer' was on repeat for this.

There was once a tale, shrouded in myth and lore, spoken by the hopeless and devoured by the hopeful. A legend of passion, of tender torment. The story of the Sun and her Moon; an affair in corporeal states. One another, held in balance—a delicate dance of light and dark.

A pair of star-crossed spirits, as kismet as their illumination of love. Their essence held them together, but their purpose drove them apart.

Such is the tale of these enervated spirits. They were never to touch, sentenced only to a life of gazing, yet through millennia—millions of years and millions of stars—they continued their dance. Asymptotes in nature, edging closer with each incarnation of their earthly ties. Thrust together in passion, but eclipsed by gravity and fate. In every instance, it was never their time.

Never until Carmilla and Laura.

 

* * *

 

They met on a Tuesday. It was their destined hello. The first of their cosmic shattering, and the last in their millennia-long wait.

The darkness shrouding the club gave way to the strobing pulse of the overhead lights, each surge lulling the bodies that filled the room into an impassioned trance. The sapphic energy radiating off the every soul en masse was something serene and warm. It was commonplace for this particular venue. In this part of town, anything went.

The costumed bodies moved and morphed around one another. They breathed each other in, swallowing auras like potions in the night. Some hid their faces behind masks, letting only their eyes speak for the anima that vibrated beneath their skin. Others wore paint and makeup, allowing each colorful swatch to bathe their face in the mystery and joy they felt. While some hid, others were finally free.

Carmilla had once believed that the only true love in her life was the building in which she stood—more notably, the passion it evoked. It was dark and sweltering, a void of fervency and tender need. It was vacant save for the floor of lights and heat. Stretching to the sky, the building rested on the outskirts of the city, inviting innocent deviance and a shared collective. The roof met the sky in a chaste kiss—a poignant hello in a nightly fashion.

This night in particular was special. A rare event of an eclipsed moon, and Carmilla had every intention of making it special for the city she harbored in the night. The roof would soon be packed with the same cosmic energy that flowed through the room.

Carmilla swayed to the thundering beat of bodies and sound. Her body was wrapped in white, a blinding contrast to the obsidian wisps that fell past her neck. Beneath sculpted brows, passionate eyes were offset with dark shadow and the dust of glitter. She shimmered beneath the lights. She was the moon in a sea of veiled, burning stars. Every move demanded the awe of gravity. Although bodies packed the room, she was alone—for no one could stand her retrograde.

This was her station, her home. She shined in the night, a poignant isolation built and handled with purpose. She supplied what no one else ever could; she was an illumination in dark times. Carmilla had always felt the call. It grew, slow at first like some small seed planted within her, until one day she felt the energy beneath her skin vibrate and claw at her hollow body. It wasn’t until she found that building—her beacon—that she knew the purpose it served.

This space, her space, was for those who couldn’t yet stand in the sun.

“A splendid night as always, darling,” a sumptuous voice whispered in Carmilla’s ear as a quick hand was drawn across the expanse of her bare shoulders. Carmilla hummed in acknowledgment, knowing the voice and its owner. Mattie was something of a black hole, mysterious and hungry. She was packed matter and hard pull. Dangerously beautiful. The two women understood each other on certain levels, and it was one reason why Carmilla placed her trust in Mattie. They maintained distance, but on nights such as this, would meet briefly in mutual appreciation.

Carmilla kept her eyes closed and continued to move, her lips parted slightly as she expelled the breath of exertion. She was well aware of the bodies moving around her, but she had become accustomed to ignoring the swirling mess of emotion and need. They weren’t strong enough to pull her in.

It wasn’t until the lights pulsed faster and the room grew darker that her eyes shot open, her heart stuttering slightly as a foreign sense overtook her chest. She followed a strange gravity to the source of her disturbance, and was met with the shattering eyes of one Laura Hollis.

Laura had always desired the warmth of day. Her spirit rose early and whispered to the skies, all blue and open and bright. It was because of that that her energy fed those around her. She was good nature and unabashed passion, breathing life into anyone who crossed her path. She was the sun in a warm void of cloudy imagination.

It had not been her idea to be out in the night. She preferred the aura of day and all the gifts it brought her, but when she woke that morning, she felt a strange nagging in the cavity of her chest. It wasn’t until a friend suggested the building—the lunar party—that her mind and heart screamed for her to agree. Laura knew better than to ignore the peculiar wishes of her psyche. It had been that way all her life, and forever it would remain.

Laura had chosen to dress in the only way that personified the passion of her spirit. Peach material caressed and accentuated her compact body. Strands of honey hair ran past her shoulders, flowing with grace while whisky eyes stared at her in the mirror. When she applied the tint of glitter with a delicate touch, they grew light and thankful.

She was dragged to the building on the outskirts of town with a group of friends she had known for years. They had all met crucial points in life, forming close bonds as their energies melded together, but Laura always felt as if she was, like the building she headed towards, on the outskirts. She shined brighter than anyone, and carried the burden of that with her. She was too bright for anyone she had ever met; too blinding.

“Are you sure it’s _this_ building?” Laura gazed up at a structure that appeared to be vacant, its rusted architecture not uncommon in the area she found herself in. “I mean, if I had known we’d be entering the den of a serial killer, I would have worn practical shoes.”

She wasn’t afraid—her curious nature always seemed to trump any form of fear, but she did carry with her a healthy dose of suspicion, disguised and veiled thinly in her own form of humor.

“Oh Gidget, it certainly is.” Laura turned to be greeted by a woman wrapped in a tight dress, her ebony skin glowing and painted red lips cracked in a devious smirk.

“And you are?” Laura asked. Something about the woman in front of her eased the small racket in her body, assuaging the uncertainty of the shrouded night she found herself in.

“That hardly matters,” Mattie answered, stepping past Laura to enter the building.

“Better hurry,” she threw over her shoulder as the door shut, “you don’t want to miss this.”

Laura glanced up one more time at the building. There was a tug in her chest again, the same one she had awoken with. It was stronger now—it beat in a rhythm she had never felt, and she knew somehow that she’d be lost if she lived another day in its absence.

Without waiting for the group she arrived with, Laura gripped the door and stepped inside. The woman she had met outdoors stood in the center of a dimly-lit lift, her shoulders meeting aged metal as her body leaned against the back wall.

She had waited for Laura. She had known the woman could not resist what waited for her in the night.

They both stood in silence as the lift ascended—each aware of the shifting energy swirling around them. Laura closed her eyes and relished in the small amount of heat the space around her provided. It was a welcomed change from the stark chill of the October outside.

As the elevator crawled higher, Laura caught wind of rhythmic sounds, growing louder with each floor she climbed. It grew until the mouth of the metal lift was opened—then, the sound swallowed her whole.

The women beside Laura gave her one last knowing gaze, then disappeared into room. Laura stood still on the edge of the commotion, appraising the scene before her.

Bodies around her moved with one syncopated energy, the flow of each spirit in the room entwining and latching to its match. Decorated bodies undulated together, and the tug of Laura’s soul screamed in her chest. The sound engulfing her hastened its pace as her eyes flowed over every inch of skin around her, each beat and tug growing stronger until she met a set of glittered eyes. The pulsing in her chest stopped, replaced by a growing tension and chill. Her body shivered at the pull; a sensation she had never known. A sensation she instantly knew she never wanted to live without.

She closed the lift, allowing it to retrieve her friends still trapped in the abandoned space below, and moved deeper into the crowd, her eyes never leaving those of the dark-haired woman drawing her in.

Carmilla stilled her movements, caught off guard by the presence standing at the edge of the room. The woman was luminescent, Carmilla could feel it. But she wasn’t blinded by the spirit of Laura. Instead, she felt her own soul shine brighter. That woman was the sun, all sinew and grace wrapped in radiance, and her eyes—like Carmilla’s—glittered in the strobing lights. The surge of emotion jolting through her body startled her, and she relished in it. There was some form of unspoken need gliding between the pair; some fated red string rearing its head, unable to be cut.

In a room packed full of searching souls, they had found one another. They instantly shared the same orbit, gravity taking hold as they let their feet guide them closer.

The lift behind Laura opened with a metallic groan, and a group of people walked out and immediately flocked to Laura. A tall woman with blazing hair leaned down to whisper in her ear, and without taking her eyes of Carmilla, she let the redhead to grasp her wrist and guide her away. Carmilla’s feet crept forward, brushing through the sea of entranced bodies to follow.

Laura allowed her friend to guide her through the mass of people, confused at her body's cry for the woman with the same shimmering eyes. She had let the redhead guide her away out of confusion, but she was unable to stop her head from swiveling back to check on the woman, hoping she would somehow follow.

She did, and Laura’s radiance grew.

The music continued its relentless pounding, counting down to the moment when the mass of people in the room would migrate higher up to watch the sky in wonder. Laura had never witnessed any form of eclipse, and her hungry spirit cried out for the new experience. What she wasn’t aware of was how soon her entire being would eclipse itself; an instance millennia overdue.

Carmilla continued her dancing and watched from a distance as the woman, a burning star in a room of dead light, began to move to the rhythm. It was unlike anything she had ever witnessed. Each movement of limb was like a match, sparking and igniting the kerosene Carmilla had fatedly dowsed her life in. It was, in the moment, some sweet providence.

She watched Laura’s hands clutch at every inch of her body, running across her clothed abdomen and up through honey hair. Hey eyes glimmered under the lights as her body glistened with sweat. Carmilla had never felt the urge to be the heat on someone’s skin so adamantly, not until this night.

Even with lids closed, Laura was keenly aware of the eyes on her—the only set of eyes in the room that mattered. Her lips were open slightly as she breathed, pacing herself to the time of sound around her. Her body burned with heat, both from the swell of bodies around her and the burning intent of the woman slowly moving towards her.

The two danced, each commanding their own space in the industrial room. They were moving, feeling. Like ends of a magnet pushing on each other. Not yet compliments, but a reaction to the other’s cadence.

Laura and Carmilla crept closer to each other’s presence, every inch of their bodies moving. One light, one dark. Their skin glistened, and the contrast of their image emitted nothing but cosmic beauty. They were overtaken by their inevitable pull; tearing at themselves, flowing with the energy surrounding them.

Soon they were mere bodies apart, the nagging in both their chests drowning out every other sense. Both aware of the other’s presence, they kept their eyes closed and breathed each other in. They were so close, separated by nothing but fate and horizon.

When Carmilla opened her eyes, she was met with Laura’s flushed countenance. She dared not touch the bright perfection now swaying in front of her. Her fingers twitched with need, but she allowed her mouth to work instead.

“You are radiant,” she spoke through the music, her voice rising just above its decibel. It was the only thing she could think to say—the first and only thought that continually wracked her mind.

Laura continued her dance, her eyes sparking in acceptance and recognition. Part of her, something that had crept up her spine all her life, felt as if she had always known the woman. There was a poignant familiarity howling at her.

“You feel it, too,” Laura spoke. Carmilla could barely make out each syllable, but she’d never have to hear Laura speak to understand what she said.

They both closed their eyes in that moment and allowed one another to move in their retrogrades. Electronic sound complimented the traces of magic in the air, and both bodies clutched to themselves, running hands through clinging hair. In that moment, Laura emitted sensuous light, and Carmilla could do nothing but reflect it back.

A hand on Carmilla’s shoulder broke her trance. Mattie appeared behind her, her lips close to her ear. “It’s time,” she stated. Carmilla shot a glance at Laura, her movements halted by a tall redhead whispering in her ear.

Carmilla longed to be that voice in Laura’s head.

Laura was forced in the direction of the stairs, where soon the swarm of people would once again meet on the roof. In the same instance, Mattie clasped her hand in Carmilla’s and lead her to the lift in the opposite direction.

The two women eyed each other, their hands reaching—their souls clawing—for whatever it was that connected them, only to miss by inches. It wasn’t there time, not yet.

Mattie led Carmilla to the lift, bypassing a small line of bodies in its queue.

“The stairs are on the opposite side of the room, children,” Mattie shouted over the music as she pried open the doors. She eyed a blocky redhead. "You can definitely use a walk."

She shooed the group away with a flick of her wrist. Everyone intimately familiar with the club had long been aware of the authority of both women, and they instantly heeded the message. The crowd dispersed as Mattie guided Carmilla into the creaking metal.

As she closed the doors, Carmilla spared one last look at Laura. The woman stood in the slow moving line at the stairs, her eyes intent on nothing but Carmilla.

Laura watched as the lift shut, severing her physical connection to the spirit calling to her. Her friends moved beside her, chatting and laughing as they began their ascent on the stairs. It was a one-story climb to the roof. The energy in the stairwell was buzzing with excitement, each decorated person alive with anticipation for the cosmos’ syzygy. The lunar eclipse had been set in motion some time ago, but it was nearing its peak. The blood moon was nearly to completion.

Soon the club’s inhabitants huddled in groups on the roof, the sound from the floor below carrying through the air, its deep bass now only a soft soundtrack to the night.

The chilled October air kissed Laura’s bare skin, and she shuddered with pleasure. The room below had been warm, and the woman’s eyes even more so. She welcomed the cold as she stood beside her friends. Everyone was intent on the air above them, watching the sky make way for lunar beauty, but Laura had no interest. She was searching for her own eclipse.

“Minutes to go, darling,” Mattie crooned as she opened the lift doors, allowing Carmilla to step out into the night. She nodded at Mattie as she set off in search of her need, her sun. The people around her glanced stood with mouths agape, entranced by the heavens.

She let her feet guide her mindlessly. She was being pulled to Laura—the universe had deemed it so.

Laura felt a sensation grip the nerves of her spine. It was different from the cold. It was a soft heat, a small heave. She left her friends without a word, gliding through huddled bodies as she followed some intangible line. Her body ached for the force on the other end.

Carmilla spotted Laura first, her heart thumping staccato in her chest. The moon above her was almost fully engulfed with light, refracted by the earth’s shadow. The sun, the moon, and the earth stood in almost perfect alignment. Just as Carmilla and Laura stood.

They met near the edge of the roof, their bodies positioned across from each other just close enough to touch.

“Carmilla,” the hard-haired woman breathed, her eyes searching the woman across from her.

“Laura,” the woman returned.

Their chests heaved, their breaths escaping into the air and their heads dizzy with intent. Above them, the moon was finally engulfed, practically bleeding the sun’s light.

And then, like those perfectly aligned masses above them, they met. If they weren’t able to fully comprehend their mutual pull before, the meeting of their lips imparted all the meaning they needed to know.

Their lips crashed together, like the moon pulling tides. Laura gripped the back of Carmilla’s neck, directing the flow of energy, their bodies finally syncing. No longer were they crossed by the universe’s plaintive fate. Their souls breathed each other in, that looming familiarity blooming; a recognition finally reaching fruition.

Nothing else around them mattered. The world, the people with them on that roof, faded until the women stood alone, engulfed in light.

Carmilla gripped Laura’s skull, running assured hands through the woman’s hair as their mouths met time and time again.

The Sun and her Moon eclipsed on that cold night in October. Laura’s hands explored the expanse of Carmilla’s soft body as Carmilla pulled her ever closer. They drank in the radiance of one another. Symbiotic and destined.

When they finally pulled apart, faces flushed with a need both fulfilled and begging, Carmilla and Laura stood nearly knitted together as the world around them returned.

A great deal of the people once inhabiting the space on the roof had returned below to be guided by sound, their need for beauty satiated. Taking notice, Carmilla stepped away from Laura and dropped to the ground, her raven hair splayed around her as she gazed at the sky above them.

Wordlessly, Laura joined, laying her body opposite of the woman. Pointing away from the other, their heads met, and Laura drew her hands above her, resting them carefully in Carmilla’s space. She needed no permission—fate had given it so long ago.

Carmilla responded in kind, raising one arm and setting it near Laura’s. They almost encased one another, and Carmilla brought her hand to rest on Laura’s, her fingers delicately caressing the warm skin. The pair was connected in the night under the blood moon.

With cosmic pull, the pair turned their heads towards the other, their mouths close enough to meet once again. They could feel heated breaths caressing their lips, and their eyes, still shimmering with glitter, were filled with nothing but understanding.

“Some fate this was,” Carmilla spoke, barely a whisper. Her lips brushed Laura’s, and she could feel the other woman’s intake of breath. It was pleasing, a satisfied enlightenment. Laura brought her free hand to caress the side of Carmilla’s face, tracing her finger from thick browns to her sharp jaw.

“We’re governed by things we’ll never understand,” Laura spoke to her, cupping her face. “But this,” she kissed Carmilla, passion flowing from between two lips, “has always been a certainty.”

As time ticked away, the pair laid sprawled on that roof; a pair of star-crossed spirits, as kismet as their illumination of love. Once fated in a delicate masquerade of light and dark, they now defied their own creation, burning their own rules into chanced skies. They were eclipsed, now and forever, their own desire trumping the stars.

And such was the tale of these enervated spirits. It was once said that they were never to touch, sentenced only to a life of gazing, yet through millennia—millions of years and millions of stars—they continued their dance. Thrust together in passion, but eclipsed by gravity and fate. In every instance, it was never their time.

Never until Carmilla and Laura.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Edits? Roundhouse me.  
>    
> thebonegardens.tumblr.com


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